Expelled: The WD Carol 1
by zzetta13
Summary: When she is forced to leave the tribe by Rick, Carol knows that it isn't safe facing the dangers of the neo-world alone. She decides to form her own posse, and as leader…..she will be the one making the rules. She is strong, stronger than she ever thought she could be. Look out world (& walkers) here comes Carol.
1. Chapter 1

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled**_

"_**Poss-C-"**_

A look into the mind of Carol…. (End of episode: Indifference, season 4)

Author's note: When she is forced to leave the tribe by Rick, Carol knows that it isn't safe facing the dangers of the neo-world alone. She decides to form her own posse, and as leader….._**she**_ will be the one making the rules. She is strong, stronger than she ever thought she could be. Look out world (& walkers) here comes Carol.

_************ Chap 1: Tumbleweed ***********_

The woman, as her foot eased forward on the gas pedal, showed a glimpse of understanding in her eyes, (the eyes of a person that still retained the light of humanity in them, still sparkled with the life of a human soul)….. Those eyes remained focused on the road straight ahead, and dared not a glance at the man standing in the street next to his vehicle as she guardedly drove by. Her mind was a mixed bag of emotions at this point, a single tear streaming down her face as she felt the cold stare of his eyes upon her.

Hatred, distain, anger, and _**the**_ almost uncontrollable feeling of them all, _**fear**_. Fear was stored in her soul, a fear that griped her so tight, so snug, that it was almost comparable to the white knuckled, vice-like hold her small hands retained on the steering wheel.

Why? Why had he done it? It was the first time he'd grown balls enough to do something in months…..and his action now was to kick her out of a group of individuals she'd known and traveled with for months? People who'd become her family.

Carol, although she'd had the desire to look into his face (as she'd passed him by on the street) had reframed from doing so, however, she couldn't suppress a quick glance in the rearview to see if he had remained standing there, watching as she drove out of his sight….he had.

Rick Grimes had remained standing next to his vehicle. She watched as he became smaller and smaller in her rearview as she put distance between them.

Maybe he was thinking that she would double back and put a bullet into his brain, maybe he considered that she was on the verge of insanity? Well, _**what**_ was sane about the world they were living in these days?

She had changed, it was true, but hadn't they all? It wasn't easy existing in a world where rotting corpses walked the earth with an insatiable hunger for living flesh. That horror, in the past, had been the nightmare of tv shows, movies and video games…..it wasn't the real world….but, as Dr. Jenner had explained to them, it had become the real world.

Now, as Carol drove down the road she was thinking a myriad of thoughts, the pangs of the unknown gripping her like the coils of a Boa constrictor wrapping itself around its victim (the helpless creature unknowing if it would live or die). She was feeling the same, the victim here.

Rick, for months, had been in limbo, a place where the outside world barely existed. As long as the Walkers had remained beyond the gates, then he had been content with raising pigs and gardening sunflowers. Where was the leader who'd taken command of the tribe when they were outside of Atlanta? Where was the man that seemed to be in control, was that man gone? Somehow vanquishing himself to self-peace and pity? Well no one was allowed that luxury. Someone had to restore the man to his senses. Carol, in her mind, had filled that obligation. She had done what needed to be done (killed infected that had breached inside the walls of their fortress, even if it was unknown how) and now she was being penalized for it. Banishes from a group of folk she'd grown to love. _Well Mr. Grimes, you hadn't seen the last of me_….. Carol was thinking. She would form her own tribe, her own posse. And just as the Governor…. she would create a Shangri-La, a community that was safe and tolerant, yet still had the guts to cull the infected from the healthy.

Carol spotted a figure up ahead on the roadside. She brought her vehicle to a halt. It was Sam…she rolled the window down.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I was looking for Anna before returning to the house. Have You seen her?"

END?


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 2**_

"_**Watch**__** from the Past"**_

Author's note: An ever increasing look into the mind of Carol Peletier. Carol presented Rick with a watch that was given to her by her husband (deceased now for near a year or two)…during one of their few and more pleasant moments.

I can't help but think that watches and time-pieces are not only helpful, but may, in the post-apocalyptic zombie walking world, have almost become symbols, symbols which predict someone's fateful death, meaning to suggest that, should your battery go dead, and your time runs out, that your time may _**literally**_ run out, just saying.

Anyhoo, it made me curious, too, if I recall correctly, that in season one, when the original "_**Atlanta**_" group (one evening was sitting around a campfire), a certain amount of attention was paid to the watch Dale was wearing, and that soon after came the _Walkers attacked..._and Amy died. Now Rick presents his watch to Sam, and gives him a weapon, then proceeds to arm Ana as well. Later we find that Ana has been discovered and killed by walkers. Is the passing around of "time pieces" a literal way of saying that someone's going to die? Just a question…..

Other questions that I have: Would Carol be able to lead and control her own tribe? Could that tribe, in the future, return to confront Rick's clan, or maybe join them? And finally, I did read somewhere that Sam DID seem a little eager to join Rick and Carol on their return trip to the prison, do I smell a minion of the devil, or is it the governor? Philip Blake may need someone inside to assess Rick's strengths and weaknesses, what better way than to have spies on the inside. Were Sam and Ana meant to be spies? Now that things have changed is Sam still in link with the _Governor_, or will he fall under the trance of Carol, and compete more with Daryl's affection?

Yet unwritten, this fan-fic may try to decipher all the answers to those curiosities...

Now on to Chapter 2: Expelled

_************ **__**Watch**__** for the Past ***********_

Looking deeply into the eyes of the young man she and Rick had become acquainted with only a short time before, Carol knew that the right thing to do was to tell Sam what had befallen his companion, only, there was nothing that told her that it had to be at that very moment.

"Get in," she told the traveler whose dislocated shoulder she had mended just that day.

"But what about Ana," he questioned?

Carol searched her mind for a way of delaying having to answer that question. She almost immediately hit on the idea of using Rick as her back-up.

"My partner is staying behind for a while; if he spies her she can travel with him back to _the_ place of sanctuary."

It pained her not to be able to say _"our"_ place of sanctuary, being that the prison fortress was no longer her home, but…

Having been exiled from the prison Carol was unsure where the road would take her. She was still a mixed bag of emotions at this moment. However, she realized that leaving Sam out in the walker-infested countryside was not the proper thing to do.

He got into the vehicle and Carol again pressed the gas pedal of the minivan and it immediately pitched into action…..lurching forward to continue their journey down the street. As the two proceeded down the road each was curious about the other, and each knew they were following a new destiny….heading into realms unknown.

Carol still retained an amount of anger towards Rick, her growing resentment becoming fueled almost to a fever pitch (and what happens to a person whose emotions are almost to the melting point…. They either find a release or explode).

Carol spied two walkers up ahead in the street. She looked over at Sam…..

"Do you still have the gun that Rick gave you?"

The young man glanced over at the driver of the minivan.

"Of course….." he answered.

"Give it to me," she spoke, almost as a demand rather than anything else. Her idea of retrieving the gun from Sam was twofold. One, she needed to vent her frustration, and two, she didn't want Sam in possession of a firearm when she told him about Ana.

He handed her the weapon and Carol immediately brought the vehicle to a halt. She opened the drive's door, stood out, and took the pistol into both hands with a firm grip. She aimed at the first walker (standing a clear one hundred feet away), and pulled the trigger. The head of the creature disintegrated into a bloody mess, the sound of the shot echoing off the buildings and trees of the surrounding countryside.

"WOW!" She heard Sam exclaim…..

"I've never seen someone off a …."_walker_" at such a distance, not with pistol, and certainly not without a laser scope. You're an amazing shot!"

Carol paid little mind to his astonishment. She pulled the trigger a second time and the next beast's head dissolved into obscure oblivion. It hit the road with a "thud". This shot was incredibly further than the first. The passenger sitting inside the vehicle was simply amazed.

When Carol again entered the cab she gazed over at the young man who was now her passenger. She noticed in his eyes that he was quiet taken with her. He questioned…..

"Are you military? I mean your hair is short and the accuracy of your aim is incredible. Too, you fixed my shoulder, so I'm thinking that you must have been a soldier before all of this?"

Inwardly Carol couldn't help but display a tiny smile; however, her expression on the outside remained as docile as the trance of a King Cobra. She knew that, at this time , it may be better for Sam to know little about her, and if venting her frustration about Rick caused a certain amount of fear and respect in his eyes, then it may be easier for her to control him later. She decided to play upon his astonishment.

"Zombie training," she spoke, feeling a little humorous with her own words….

"….at the base we knew that one day the world would be overrun by Walkers. The _**Bureau**_ decided to take action and give us training before the apocalypse, "_Preparedness"_…that was the Academy's motto."

She could see that Sam was a little confused. He was unsure if she were ex-military or a surviving government agent. One thing she did know about Sam was that he talked too much.

"How about we hold off on the conversation for a while", she spoke, "there's nothing in my book that says that quiet and peace are a bad thing."

Carol needed time to think, to arrange her thoughts, and having Sam yammering at her all the while was too much of a distraction to let her consider what needed to be done.

"OK," he said, "only one last thing...,"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch Rick had given him to help him gauge the time when he and Ana were supposed to return back to the rendezvous (how they had become separated and lost was still a mystery at this point?)

"Here," he said, "….when you see your friend again you can return his property."

The sudden exchange brought Carol to the surreal. She had just given Rick her watch as a symbol of cutting her ties to the past, now she was receiving his. Was this fate, a reoccurring expression that spoke that they had not seen the last of each other? Would Carol, in the future, still come in contact with the people she'd grown to love and support?

She slipped the watch into her pocket. It was still a strange and mysterious world she lived in, zombies and all.

END PART 2


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 3**_

"_**Carol, Destination Unknown"**_

Author's note: Carol & Sam head towards Columbus, Georgia…..enroot she examines her thoughts.

Not much action in this chapter. I've chosen to be more of a bore-worm into Mrs. Peletire's brain (rather than just kill a bunch of zombies). I do enjoy exploring the reasons why people think the way they do.

Do we always know what is in another person's brain? Of course we don't. The idea here is to present Carol's side of the story, her perception….rather than just the one assumed by Rick. Anyhoo, just getting behind the idea of Carol's motivation and thought process, Z

_************** Carol **************_

Carol and Sam again entered the vehicle she had been driving, and again the minivan was driven onto a main thoroughfare (the two of them had stopped in a small town to gather supplies, the name of which was unknown to her, but that didn't matter; many of the places each had been were just smudges on a map at this moment in time. Forgotten in history just as the memory of the faces of the walker she had taken down. Her new destination at this point had been both anywhere and nowhere. Carol had no idea where the road would take her, or what she would do when she got there, but she did know that she would do whatever it took to live.

"Thanks Rick," she mumbled under her breath as to not let Sam hear her. It was a tweak of sarcasm directed at the man she had followed as leader for so long.

Carol had been able to corral her thoughts about Rick (and his idea of expelling her from the group)….but resentment remained, and her soul was a seething, burning ember. She was still confused as to how the leader of the _Old Atlanta Group_ could kick her out?

Carol had come to see the _Grimes Tribe_ as her family, of which, Rick had been the patriarch…however, Mr. Grimes had seemed to begin favoring the role of _Farmer Brown_, rather than the man they needed to make the tough decisions.

A virus had entered the prison, a contagion or other, and it had needed to be confined. She had stepped up, figured the math, and done what needed to be done (however wrong it may seem now), protect the nucleus of the family, while Rick had been playing in the dirt. The leader of the Atlanta group seemed to be on _holiday_ while a serious condition had occurred, so, she had taken business into her own hands.

Now it seemed as though she was being punished for it. Had Rick chosen Tyreese over her? Could he be so swayed as to let an outsider influence his decisions (or was this an attempt at protecting her)?

A swarm of thoughts circled through her brain as she and Sam continued down the highway. It had been months, possibly years since the outbreak which had brought the world into total chaos, and the cause of what had happened remained a mystery.

Carol, having been expelled from the "Grimes clan", was less concerned about the caused at this juncture, and more attuned to the effect. It seemed that for every living person, there were a hundred _Walkers_, maybe a thousand, maybe ten thousand, she didn't know, and their numbers were increasing daily.

What she did know was since that fateful night outside the _big city_ (she had watched as Atlanta had burned, the town had been _firebombed_) she had changed, but then, so had everyone. She didn't know if the root cause of the infestation had been a virus, disease or something else (which had spread across the land and maybe the entire globe for that matter), something which had infected the country, something that had conquered God's Good Earth? It seemed eons ago, but the answer to that question was still as remote as it had been from the first day. However, the task now was to survive, survive and teach the children how to do the same.

Carol was no longer the meek, unassured woman she had been when this whole ordeal had started. She was a woman who'd witnessed her own daughter's ending (shot by a man who now planted corn in a prison-yard, how ironic was that?), and she had cried rivers of tears while bashing in the brains of her husband (before he had turned, turned into an un-dead). No, Carol was not that person anymore. She was stronger, stronger and a believer in the human spirit. A believer that spoke that humanity would rebound from this. And although the world seemed to be at its darkest, she knew life, as always, would move forward. Yes, Carol still held on to HOPE.

She placed her eyes ahead, and with a firm grip on the steering wheel maintained a steady focus on the road…destination unknown.

END PART 3


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 4**_

"_**Blood, Sweat & Leers"**_

Author's note: Sam & Carol are headed on the road to _nowhere_ (well, at least she knows the truth). Anyhoo, Carol is not beyond _bending_ the truth to keep Sam corralled into thinking that they will, at some point, be heading back to sanctuary. The question is...

What happens when two people are alone in a vehicle together (?) they begin to talk, and sometime they reveal more of themselves than they should…..

Just a little inter-play between two travelers in the zombie apocalypse (no one wants to face this nightmare alone), Z.

_************ Blood, Sweat & Leers ***********_

"Damn…," Carol voiced aloud as she began searching for the nob that turned on the windshield wipers.

"What's the matter," Sam asked as he looked over at the woman driving the vehicle?

"This damn rain," she answered, "…it isn't raining hard enough the keep the wipers on, but it isn't coming down so hard to turn them off completely," she finished.

"Why don't you put the wiper blades on pulse," he questioned?

Carol looked over at her young passenger; she gave him that "_**really**_" expression that people give when the obvious is stated. Of course she'd thought of that already, was he an idiot?

"Thanks Sam," she spoke, "but this vehicle's new to me, and I haven't taken the time to learn all the whistles and tricks. The manufacturers of the things never put the nobs in the same place, or arrange buttons in a standard pattern.

She turned back to view the road, and remembering her past she said…."Besides, we drove an old clunker before the outbreak, and my deceased husband never let me behind the wheel….if he was in the car, he always drove," she paused, "even when he was drunk."

That last bit of information was almost the impulsive thought, rather than a selected response. Immediately Carol realized that she shouldn't have said it. She was shocked with herself, she hadn't intended on revealing so much about her past. She wanted Sam to continue thinking of her as a bad-ass, but then she knew, that it was only a matter of time before they actually got to know one another better.

"So, what's the plan," he questioned, "when are we going to get to this fortress of yours?"

"Soon," she lied," a day or two, Rick has given me an alternate mission to complete before returning to camp…..."

"A day or two…..but…?"

Carol brought the vehicle to a quick halt. She turned to leer at the young man...and gave him a stern gaze.

"Look, as I recall, you and Ana begged us to take you in," she announced,"….implying that you were willing to do anything to earn you place in the group. Well here's the deal, everyone has a task, a job, a duty….if you are unwilling to pull your load then there will be no place for you among the group, got it?"

Sam got quiet….sure he remembered expressing how much he wanted this. It was just that, he was missing Ana. She had taken care of him all the while they were traveling together, his injury being a burden to them both. Spending so long a time apart had just had made him become a little itchy….that was all.

Carol suddenly felt sorry for him….she continued

"Look, I have tattoos showing that I've killed people for asking questions of less value," an obvious deception, but she was willing to risk his inquiry...

"With my background Rick trusts me to go out on patrol with him. We investigate the surrounding area."

She stopped to see if he was contemplating what she was saying...

"A group the size of ours consumes a lot of supplies, and we tend to have to venture further with each mission, understood?"

It was a good answer, but Carol could see that he was searching, on her exposed body, for such tattoos. She could see that she needed to remedy this claim...rather than just hope that he would fall for her lie...

"Hey, said tattoos are in places of the modest. I could show you, but then I've have to kill you. Do you think that the elite forces of the United States of America would let me display their icons so publicly? get real Sam..."

Carol felt that she had gotten herself back on track by using the key-words "background", and "size". By _background_ it could be referred back to the idea that she had military training, and by _size_ _of the group_, told him that should anything happen to her, there would surely be a posse sent out to find them. Would he be willing to avoid _Walkers_ and a search party at the same time? Carol felt safe with her answer.

When they began traveling down the road again it was only the matter of a short while before the windshield became so drenched in raindrops that it was near impossible to see clearly. It was then, in a brief instant, that there was something in the road that Carol was unable to avoid…..

"_**THUMP**_…."

The windshield was splattered with fleshy tissue…..then….

"_**THUMP, THUMP, THUMP…."**_

It was the splattering of three more.

Carol had driven into a herd of _Walkers_, and as the wipers began their dreadful task of cleaning the windshield, it turned into a bloody mess. She used the wash-button to clear the crud from the glass, but this only gave her a clear view showing that their path was cluttered with Walking Dead. She was thinking….

"_We get outta this; we need to find a place for the night until the rain clears. Otherwise it may our blood and tissue someone is wiping off their windshield."_

Carol again pressed the gas petal to the floor, and they streamed ahead past the zombified herd in a matter of moments.

Up the road a piece there was a sign, it pointed to _**Columbus Metro Airport**_. Carol considered the idea…..

"_That may be a great place to hold up. Sam looks a little tired, and I'm not so fresh myself. Could be we could hold up there for the night and tomorrow see if the rain has cleared. Better to be safe now, then take chances on running into an onslaught of the un-dead."_

Ironically she put on her blinker showing that she had chosen to exit… Sam looked over at her and smiled.

END PART 4


	5. Chapter 5

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 5**_

"_**Struck"**_

Author's note: "_RANT_",…. It is season 4 and we need answers "damnit". I don't know about you, but I'm hoping to get some answers as to why the zombie apocalypse happened…..?

Com'mon Mr. Kirkman give us a clue. No…..? Well then, you force me to assume my own hypotheosis…..(spoken with a smile of course)

Carol & Sam head towards Columbus, Georgia and find refuge in the city's airport.

A while back I posted a fan-fic entitled _Dead Branches_, which is actually becoming an analogy to this work (being that both express off-chutes of characters of the show). Anyhoo, _Dead Branches_ speaks of alternate outcomes to the tv series (in that Jim, from the first season, was saved from becoming a Walker by a female Green Beret from Fort Bliss) anyhoo, just my active imagination I guess, still, for this work "_**Expelled"**_ to advance, _OC_ and other such things must occur. Hope you stay attuned, Z.

_************ Trust *************_

Carol felt herself beginning to stir from a restful sleep. It had been a long night, but she and Sam had found sanctuary in a room just off of the main lobby of the Columbus Metro Airport. She had taken early watch after the two had spent the first hour scavenging the complex searching for anything usable.

That search had proven fruitless of course, as they assumed it would. There wasn't much left for the pickings (now that the whole country had been under siege for so long).

Also, it was the first time Carol considered that Rick may have been right in creating a garden (the world's food supply wouldn't last forever, well, at least for the living; the _Walkers_ were still lining up for the banquet).

Carol had allowed Sam the valued rest he needed….being that he seemed exhausted, and at about 2am he took over and she folded a hefty overcoat into a pillow then lay down her head. She kept the firearm within reach telling him to wake her if anything happened.

Now…just beginning to open her eyes she felt that they had made it through the night safely. She sat up and stretched her arms and could see her cohort sitting just a few feet away.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning….," she announced.

"How about some nice, tasty, scrambled eggs, with a side order of bacon," he grinned.

"That sounds great," she replied, knowing that he was only joking. She reached for her gun next to her pillow and found that it was gone.

"You looking for this?"

Carol turned to see Sam with the weapon in his dirty little hands. She didn't speak as he tumbled it about as if playing with a toy. He turned to look at her directly in the eye.

"You know Carol, I think you've been lying to me, misleading me for a long time now," he paused, and there was no smile in his eyes at this time…

"OH, I do think that you are on a mission, a mission to find out if we belong to another clan, or another tribe, and if we were just playing you guys. Well, true or not I wasn't leading you astray," he stopped, and then started again…..

"Now, as for me….. did you take me out here to kill me?"

He seemed sad…

"I think that Ana may be already dead, is that so?"

Carol didn't know how to answer. Of course the girl was dead, but they hadn't anything to do with it, the thing is, would he trust her if she told him the truth?

(_Trust was a tough thing to realize these days. __Trust__ was usually afforded to the person's one was with when this whole nightmare began, and it wasn't easily attained just because someone claimed to have killed a few zombies. That didn't mean a damn thing._

_No...trust was a merit patch, an honor badge, and it was achieved only by countless encounters with the undead and by one risking their own life to save others. A person could spent days savaging with people they'd just met, it didn't mean a thing unless they were put to the test_).

Carol…obviously wasn't trusted by Sam, and maybe she was right in not having trusted him, still, he was the one who held the gun.

_Walkers_ had no fear or remorse, they only roamed to feed, but she wasn't a _Walker_, and looking down the barrel of a gun was a bit unnerving, even to the stoutest of hearts.

_************ Struck ***********_

Carol looked over at the young man she'd known less than a day. Did she begrudge him his belief not to trust her…of course not….still she did not know what his intentions were.

"Well Mrs. Carol, time to come clean," he stated, "….yes or no, is Ana dead?"

Carol thought about her answer long and hard…..

"_Better to be truthful and hope that he would give her a chance to explain….rather than attempt to lie her way out_".

"Yes, she's dead," Carol proclaimed.

Sam cocked back the hammer on the pistol….

"Well let me thank you for setting my shoulder," he said, "but you are ill unexcused for the crime of….."

There was a motion behind him, and an object came down upon the back of his head. Sam fell to the floor unconscious. There in the doorway stood another man. A man dressed in a pilot's uniform. He looked over at Carol…..

"Thought that you might need a little assistance," he said, "my name's Struck, William Struck…..Bill for short. Hope that my intervention has found favor," he spoke, and then smiled?

END PART 5


	6. Chapter 6

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 6**_

"_**Survival & the Blue Bird"**_

Author's note: Continuted work going up…

Carol is faced with a new predicament. A new man has come into her life and she needs to "_feel_" her way through before committing her emotions.

This guy…..Will, Bill or whatever, seems to be someone she may be able to start a new posse with. Of course they've just met, but Carol expresses a bit of moxie that she has developed over time, and her female intuition tells her that he CAN be trusted.

"_Lonely is the soul who travels through life alone"_, I just made that up, clever I hope :)

PS: My thanks to Jessie33, one of the most pleasant people I've come to exchange with on this site, Z

_************** Bill, Will, or Whatever *************_

It was a stand-off…...both Carol and William (Will), posted only feet apart. They each made a play for the gun (which Sam had been holding and which had fallen from his grasp as he hit the floor)….Will reached it first.

"Com'on now," he spoke, "let's not get too hasty."

Carol, halted in her tracks, she didn't know what he would do next.

Holding up the pistol he began to examine it. He ejected the clip which held the weapon's bullets, the case was empty…..

"…. Beside, how much harm could he have done with the thing unloaded," he again looked at her?

Carol made a quick assessment of the man standing before her. He was handsome (but not as handsome as Daryl), and he did seem intelligent…..and whether the pilot's uniform he was wearing was real, or just something taken off a corpse (?), it did give him a bit of clout, a certain credibility to his profile. She began to respond to his observation.

"Sam, don't know what kinda fool he took me for," she began (speaking of the unconscious man lying on the floor), "...I'd only been acquainted with the boy for a day or so…..so what had him think that I'd leave a firearm, loaded, next to me while I slept (?)," she paused, "well, it did show me his true colors."

It had been Carol's plan all along to test the young fellow's trustworthiness.

Will said nothing.

"William Struck….," Carol announced while looking at the man who'd just bludgeoned her partner over the head. He interrupted her before she could finish…..

"Will…for short," he spoke, " Will Struck, Pilot for East America Airlines, and co-pilot for the stranded jet sitting on the tarmac out there, well, that is, if you could see it," he added (the room hadn't any windows). "…Now if you please, can you tell me a little bit about yourself, Carol?"

It was obvious that he had heard somewhat of the conversation between herself and Sam before he neatly batted her cohort over the head.

"Well my name's Carol, Carol Pelti…..," she stopped before completely finishing, then started again, "….and I have a least a dozen people who know and care about me."

Will looked down at the young man lying on the floor…

"And, Miss Pelti, I take it he wasn't one of them," he grinned?

Carol couldn't help herself; she began to like this man. There weren't many people who could express a sense of humor in a situation like this, and his eyes, his eyes showed a glint of trustworthiness in them. She had recognized that same look in Daryl's eyes too, and she relaxed a bit.

Carol found herself attracted to the man's winning smile, and she smiled back.

_************ The Tower *************_

Will scanned the compartment…..

"And where are all these people that care about you," he questioned?

Carol paused before responding…..how could she tell him the truth, without telling him the truth, if that made any sense?

"Separated," she spoke, "we became separated early yesterday. I found Sam out on the road and chose to let him tag along."

It was the truth, although bent a little to hide certain details, Carol felt safe. Although Will still had the weapon within his grasp, it was empty. The one she had tucked into her pants in back, beneath her shirt wasn't.

She decided to flip the subject back around to Will….

"So, where have you been hiding out all this time, and where are your friends?"

William Struck paused to look at the woman a moment. Carol could see him contemplating on what he would say next.

In a quick movement he flipped the pistol around and handed it back to her. This caused Carol's trust factor to become heightened. He smiled…..

"It's just me, and the _**Man Upstairs**_," he said.

So he was a religious guy, kinda like Hershel, well that was a good thing.

"Yeah, I live up in the airport's tower. From there I have a complete view of the entire area and none of the _Seekers_ can sneak up on me."

"_Seekers? That was a new one_," Carol thought.

"Yeah, up there in the tower I sometimes tune-in to radio frequencies. Most are military transmissions, and some are in code and I can't quite catch their meaning, so by the _**Man Upstairs**_ I was referring to….the Government."

Carol could have kicked herself for misreading…..

"Anyhow, there was a transmission a few weeks ago that was exhilarating and confusing at the same time. It said that the _Blue Jay had flown to Bliss_. I got that _**Blue Jay **_meant some sort of important Government official; it was the Bliss part that skipped past me."

Carol looked at Will, she knew that he was an educated pilot and all, but sometimes even the smartest people let detains sway past them.

"Bliss," she said, "Fort Bliss, Texas. I have a sister that lives there."

END PART 6


	7. Chapter 7

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 7**_

"_**Safety of the Perch High"**_

Author's note: Carol & Will become better acquainted, and he brings up questions, answers and ideas that have escaped her until now. Interesting how another person's perspective can open your eyes a bit.

_**Expelled Part 7**_ expands upon the zombie apocalypse, and advances towards some answers, well maybe, Z.

_************ Safety of the Perch High *************_

Carol Peletier had just made a new acquaintance…..

Will was his name, William Struck, and as far as she knew he had been an airline pilot for one of the companies that flew regular routes over the east coast mainland of the U.S.

Will seemed a bit of a loner, but not so much so that he avoided all contact with other people (he favored Daryl in this regard).

Carol remembered that Daryl enjoyed going on hunting excursions alone, and that his skill was extraordinary when it came to tracking game (and bringing back food for the tribe). She missed him and she missed all of the others, well, with the exception of Rick.

Thinking of the tribe, she again felt sour towards the man who'd put her on the road. She felt abandoned, however, at the moment; she had other things to deal with. Carol pushed those thoughts away from her mind.

Anyway, here she was with Will, and he had led her up to the ivory tower of Columbus Metro Airport.

"See, from this perch you have a full view of all around," he said.

Carol didn't say anything, but she WAS impressed.

They had taken the minivan (she had arrived in), and hidden it away, in a storage room off the main lobby. When Sam regained consciousness, the plan was to have him think that she had left. The boy had become untrustworthy and she felt that he was a little unstable, so it was decided that it was best if he found his own way, otherwise he could doom them all. It was sad, but it was just the way it was.

Carol looked around the control room of the airport tower. There was plenty of food stashed away over to one side, and a store of weapons in another corner, also several stacks of books. It seemed that Will had not isolated himself in his treehouse dwelling; he did make routine trips out and about to gather supplies. Carol began to quiz him about his situation…..

"Well, as it started I wasn't alone. When this began I was up in the air in that jet (he pointed to an airplane out on the tarmac) twenty-two thousand feet up. There was a disturbance in the passenger's cabin and one of the stewardesses was screaming blooding murder over the intercom. The pilot went back to investigate and I heard shots fired. As it turned out one of the _seekers_ had come aboard….only he wasn't a seeker in the beginning, he hadn't turned at that point. The pilot was killed and devoured and then it was realized that several of the other passengers had been infected…..either by bites or scratches. The craft became a flying time bomb; it was only a matter of time before the creatures stormed the cockpit and doomed us all. Lucky for Sue and I there was a Sky-Marshal aboard, and he was armed. Henry wasted several of the things and we barricaded ourselves inside the cabin. We made an emergency landing here and just barely escaped with our lives. By then the airport was a mass of confusion and the beasts were storming from every direction," he paused a moment, and seemed a little depressed…..

"Later we discovered that Sue had been scratched, and watching her tur…..," he hesitated, and it was obvious that he had been effected by this, but then continued…

"…..well, it was a nightmare. Henry and I came here and we lasted for a while together. We were able to receive transmissions from other stations by radio, but we could not respond. Some of the equipment has been damaged and there is no two-way communication. Anyway at some point Henry, set out on his own, and I haven't seen him since. On occasion I go out and scavenge for what I can find and have become fairly resourceful….."

Carol glanced around, that was obvious….. However, she did have a question.

"Why do you call them seekers?"

He studied her….

"Well, because it seems as if they are searching for something. If devouring flesh is their only motivation, then why don't they just consume each other? I've gathered from radio transmissions that this plague, or whatever it is, has become known as "_The Way of Tartarus", _The Way of Hell. These creatures began migrating into the cities because that's where most of the food supply was, now (that the "grocery market" is beginning to dry up) their hunger is taking them away from the cities and out into the countryside. They seem to share a mission, a common goal, they are seeking something and that's why I refer to them as _seekers_."

It made sense to Carol, after all hadn't everyone they'd encountered had their own description for these monsters.

"And what of you," he asked?

Carol was about to answer when she spotted something every interesting in the weapons stash. She walked over and picked up something that was very familiar to her. She held it up for inspection…

SHE marveled at its lines, ingenuity and its sense of balance. She plucked the string and it was like a harp (music to her ears). She looked over at Will….

"Do you have missiles for this?"

He pointed to a quiver behind a stash of AK's.

Carol retrieved the arrows and glanced back at the man….

"Do you have a portal, an opening I can shoot out of?"

Will pointed to a crack in the glass, an opening of about a foot in diameter that could allow the use of a weapon.

"Let me show you what I can do," she offered.

Carol walked over to the opening. From her viewpoint she could see the entire landing zone of the airport, and she noticed that the tarmac was littered with zombie corpses (dead walkers). She glanced back at Will….he smiled.

"Target practice, before I realized that I was wasting too much ammo," he said.

Carol returned her attention to the pad. There was a fresh _walker_ just making his way across the surface of the hardtop, she strung an arrow and took aim. She released the projectile and it flew directly into the brain of the unaware beast. It fell to the cement, a limp mass of nothingness. Other beasts around took note of its falling, but their interest (as known by both Carol and Will), was but for a brief moment. Hunger consuming their every thought...had them pause but only an instant, then pushed them beyond caring about what had happened to one of their own.

Carol looked over at Will..."That is what I can do," she said.

END PART 7


	8. Chapter 8

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 8**_

"_**Stalker"**_

Author's note: I am such a TV geek (I admit) that while writing fan-fiction (for the WD tv series), I tend to infuse the current television show with my own fiction created work… (yepper, I do keep up with the show and I do tend to follow the guidelines. I commend AMC's efforts in seeing that Kirkman's vision never becomes stale…..RIP Hershel).

Yes, the mid-season fanally (of WD season 4) certainly wrought a surprise to the fans of the show (which is what adds to the posterity of its episodic vision, in my opinion) and also, I include myself among the fan (love/hate) relationship with the characters.

_**(Expelled**_….is just a spin-off of that vision….and in so, may explain the mindset of Carol….after becoming ousted from the tribe…._just my interpolation of how things could continue to flow_…..Carol develops a respect/hate relationship for Rick, am I wrong?

If readers of this fan-fiction have an expressed opinion, then I'd be more than happy to hear what you think.

My extended thanks to the reviewers of this work (my appreciation goes out to those whole-heartedly as JESSSIE 33. U-R comments are well received and a motivation to this extended work…..), also, Souls Whisper's & vickih, your reviews have totally touched… and I thank U, Z.

Now, reading what I can into the ongoing WD tv series, at this point I don't know if Kirkmans' zombies can be brought back from their dead soulless state (can they be reanimated into the persons they once were?) or if they are beyond repair? Only the creators of the show know the answers to that…..

However was the Governor wrong? Was his intent to rectify the dead a total misgiving (through experimentation)?

Blake's unquestionable love for his daughter was extremely evident (as expressed in his love of an adopted daughter,) and as such, could he be blamed for a desire for her safety?

Was Philip's experiments at Woobury an attempt to re-induce the dead, and in doing so an attempt to reanimate his own daughter?… or was he just saving trophies?

As we are all aware, the man was insane (my thanks to you for your ultimate performance David, you made Blake totally believable) and I can see that he was ALL about control. However, was he totally wrong? Was "HIS" the total facade of a dictator?

As suggested in previous chapters of this work, the government may know more than they are willing to tell. Maybe Will has become privy to communications that were scarious above his his intent, and beyond his pay-grade. Maybe he wasn't supposed to hear the communications going on between those who are still in the "Know".

However, this is only my detention into what could really be goin on... hope that you enjoy, Z

_************ Day 2- The Stalker? *************_

Carol's second day spent (at Columbus Metropolitan Airport) had begun, and she had just awakened from a demanding sleep in the airport's _high tower_. She looked around and realized that it was….around, or about noon (actually it was 12:13pm, according to Rick's watch), and she hadn't meant to sleep for so long a time. However, after the events of the day before, she had been exhausted...and she had met up with a new person. Someone calling himself….William Struck, and he seemed to be an airline pilot (taken from his claim of the time before the apocalypse).

Will was a nice enough fellow, but the trust factor just wasn't there yet. Carol had spent much of the night, awake, fearing something might happen while she was in slumber.

Ironic it was, that during this time of humanity...people, not only lived in fear of _walkers... (__sleepers, creepers, biters, geeks, goons, stalkers, seekers),_ or whatever term was established by the clan of destination), but they also lived in fear of each other.

The human race had once again entertained its Neanderthal state. We'd become Homo erectus, hunter gatherer's. We consumed the land of its resources and then, when depleted, moved on to alternative fertile soil (which in actually didn't separate us much from the _Walkers_, now did it?).

"Only the Strong will survive"…. Carol remembered... that she'd seen that in some movie before all the "_**shit**_" had hit the fan.

The woman, newly expelled from the _**AT**_ (Atlanta Tribe) hadn't fallen asleep until the wee hours of the morning (well, at least not a restful sleep). She was in constant struggle with the trust factor, she did not know if she could trust Will? She had done her best to rest with one eye open, but alas, had become overwhelmed by the sleep-fairy. Now, she had awakened and found that she was alone.

WHERE WAS WILL?

She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. She noticed then (that there was a posted note on the _view station glass),_ A paper taped to the window, something she had not seen the day before. She retrieved it and read the words…..

"_Carol, you looked so peaceful as you slept, so I was afraid to wake you. I don't know how safe you felt with the others of your tribe, but just to inform you, you are safe here, within this tower. I will not harm you, you can bet on that."_

Carol paused; she could see then that the man could be trusted. Nice to know a girl could wake up and not have a gun pointed in her face. She read further…..

"_I needed to make a little excursion outside the tower, which was supposed to happen yesterday, but as you know I became a little distracted….,"_

That sentence ended with a smiley face, Carol smiled to herself, and then read on…

"_Anyway, do not become alarmed, on occasion I do venture out into the countryside. I will be returning before dark, just to let you know. There is plenty of food and drink if you get hungry or thirsty. Yep, help yourself to the provisions; see ya at dusk, Will"_

The note ended and Carol put the paper down. Actually this had awakened her thirst, not so much a thirst for food or drink, but for communication.

Carol, emotionally, was still in resentment of what Rick had done to her. The torment of being cast-out….expelled from a group of people whom she'd grown to love and care about…..well, it still posted trauma upon her soul; also, she still carried Rick's watch.

With _**Will **_still, being gone, Carol figured that she could take the minivan and head back to the prison. Not to rejoin the crew (it was understood) but, she would go there with an understanding to let them know that she was still alive. She hadn't known what the leader of the "_Old Atlanta Group_" had told them.

Rick, in Carol's eyes, may have become an unfit leader, and if so, maybe had lied about the reason as to why she was missing. She needed to clear the air, and as such, if Rick had told them that she'd been killed… then maybe she should express the concern that she was not dead, only vanquished. What better way to accomplish this, than to leave a note, a note convening them of her survival.

Carol looked down at the crossbow she acquired (from the day before) and she thought about Daryl.

She had fallen in love with that man...she had loved him since their first kiss, a kiss which had happened before her husband had become deceased. In actuality, she had been attracted to Daryl since before the "known apocalypse".

Carol had been consumed by Daryl before Rick had ever been introduced into the picture. He encapsulated her, made her feel as if she was important, that her notions and opinions did matter.

An idea crossed her brain….

What better way to inform the group (the Atlanta survivors) that she was not dead than to shoot an arrow into the compound with a note attached. She could place it right next to the entrance of the guard tower, and since Rick never pulled guard duty anymore, she was sure that some other individual would find it. Maybe her return could be brought before the council, the democratic committee that had been ordained to oversee the business of the compound? Maybe they would take a vote and allow her back in?

It was simple, she would leave a note at the prison (instructing that should they want her back) they could leave evidence of their decision at the home where she and Rick had encountered Sam and Ana. She would also leave evidence showing that she had been there (Rick's watch in a kitchen drawer). She checked the time, 12:42. She had time to head to the prison, leave the note, and then come back before Will returned.

Carol equipped herself, and then headed down to where she and Will had stashed the minivan. En-root she couldn't help but feel the emotion of being reduced to...a walker, or stalker, or whatever term one wanted to use express her intent. Now, it seemed, that she was stalking her own tribe, how ironic.

Carol laced up her shoes and headed out of the tower.

END PART 8


	9. Chapter 9

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 9**_

"_**A Nightmare in the Light of Day"**_

_************ One Eyed Jack *************_

A haze began to develop inside his brain, and a question…..

"_Was this how it was supposed to end, had his life come to its final conclusion?" _

NO…., even now he refused to believe that. He didn't believe that he'd been spared the horrors of the past two years to take his final breath lying in the gravel of an internment arena… NO, his life was not over…..

Destiny would come to show that he had survived the trials and tribulations "_of the new world accord_", to serve a greater purpose. That his ultimate calling was, not only to remain among the living, but was also to rise above them, rule over them. His true destiny had more meaning.

Philip "Jack" Blake had this fog in his brain, as he lay there in a prison courtyard….beside a man he'd almost choked to death (and his mind was filled with conjecture….remembering and fearing, that maybe the last vision he'd have, might be the sight of a woman he'd had a desire to destroy, Michonne), and he believed that his destiny had not been fulfilled.

Blake had always had this god mentality about himself…this belief that he was to be boss, leader, to be in control one day. It had lain hidden inside him for some time; however, the apocalypse had allowed it to surface.

They say that before a person dies their whole life passes before their eyes, well, even now, after being pierced by a sword, he refused to let go.

As "_The Governor_" (lie there) he was a bit in confusion as to why Michonne hadn't split his skull in two (instead of just running him through with her katana)? He was wondering why she had stayed her hand at ending him outright, of releasing him from the bonds of his human existence. Was it because of her own vendetta, a wish she held for having him become a _biter_? Had seeing the trophies of the severed heads in the fish tank at Woodbury give her a desire to force him to remain on this earth (traveling from place to place) in a walking shell of torment?

Philip didn't know what was in her brain, and at this moment didn't perplex over it. What he did care about was revenge, and he believe that he had been civil in requesting that revenge. He had nearly lost all hope after his failed control over Woodbury, but days after he had witnessed a rebirth.

Finding Lilly and Meghan had allowed him to think that he could create a new beginning, and that his new clan could make a fresh start that the prison. However, there was something in the way. The occupants whom had taken residence inside, they were a barrier to his plan, a spoil in the province of his new idea. They would have to be dealt with, and his revenge, tempered with a bit of restraint, was sweet.

The Governor had decided that he would not attack their home (as they'd done his), he would allow them to retreat, retreat from the property…and they could take the traitorous souls of his last congregation with them.

Now, as his plan played out, it had not gone according to record. The tank should have been enough to cause departure from that safe-haven….it had not succeeded, and he had felt compelled to invade.

Here, as Philip Jack Blake lie on the ground….he began to think of what had been taken from him, his wife, his child and the new people that he cared for, was there no end to his anguish?

A hatred began to boil up inside, he would get through this, recover, and he would hunt those down who had caused him so much pain. At that moment there came a flash of movement across his eye….. He looked up and saw Lilly.

_********* A Nightmare in the Light of Day **********_

Carol, on her way to deliver the note to the prison, suddenly brought her minivan to a halt on the back-road she was on. She opened the door and (placing one foot on the ground outside the cab), exited, standing to get a better look.

There was deep smoke coming from the area of her old home, and it spoke to her that something was alight, ablaze, yeah burning, although for the trees she couldn't tell what it was.

The smoke was black and rich, speaking that it contained hydrocarbons (synthetic chemical product), so she knew it wasn't grass or leaves that were burning. Maybe it was a pile of vanquished _walkers_? However, the question was, why would there be separate blazes coming from the compound?

Carol again took position behind the driver's seat and continued forward towards the prison. When she arrived a vision of horror met her eyes.

There were bodies everywhere, some still being consumed by _walkers_, and there was a tank just up past the entry barrier. She exited her vehicle and just stood there a moment…..in shock. The sight was so surreal that it almost seemed as a dream, a nightmare.

She began to advance towards the compound, bow at the ready if she were attacked, however the remaining walkers showed no interest with her. They seemed more satisfied with the banquet at hand rather than with the pursuit of even fresher meat, they gorged themselves on their meals.

At ten paces Carol came upon a head, a head with a snow white beard and...she recognized with horror the soul that it belonged to.

"HERSHEL….MY GOD NO!"

She fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably. The un-dead cranium began to reanimate as she sat there sobbing...and she knew what she had to do…she strung an arrow.

After entering into the compound proper, Carol checked many of the bodies. Some she recognized, some she did not. She found no more from the original _Atlanta Group_ and tragic enough, she was thankful.

The fires around the compound had stirred up a breeze that was drawing wind to the flames and she thought she heard a sound, a noise that caused her to pause... and immediately she recognized that sound... it was the sound of a baby's cry.

END PART 9


	10. Chapter 10

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 10**_

"_**The Road of Crosses"**_

Author's note: Graffiti: Zombies are just people, remove their brain and they'll be back to normal.

PS: Thanks J 33 for hanging in there, Z

_********** Mitch Dolgen **********_

Carol Peletier stood in astonished shock on the prison grounds she, and the remaining core group of the Atlanta survivors, had once obtained by force, only months prior to this day. And now, having returned to deliver a message to her friends, she had discovered that the facility had been the target of an attack. Here, she stood stunned by what she was witness to.

The prison was a bloody mess…. the bodies of friend and foe alike were scattered about the compound like dead branches on a forest floor. The carnage was almost stomach turning, and Carol knew that if she hadn't been witness to such horrors before, then she would certainly have let-go her lunch. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all…..

Evidently the goal of acquiring the compound had become the plan of others, of intruders, a task that, even with a military tank, the invaders had not been able to accomplish, there seemed to be no one around to claim the victory.

Where were the survivors? Had anyone lived? Carol remained in surreal disbelief of the situation. Her mind freezing and causing her to remain immobile from the spot she now stood anchored to…that is, until a small sound snapped her back into reality.

Had it been the sound of a baby's whine, she wasn't sure? With the noise of the crackling flame and the grotesque gargles of the feasting walkers it was hard to be certain what she had heard. She listened more intently and thought that she heard the sound again.

It was coming from around the area of the tank. She strung a bow and stealthily, cautiously began to make her way towards the giant military machine. Coming around to left side…. she became aware of something, something moving. She turned quickly and brought her crossbow into position…..

There before her eyes was a vision of terror, a walker, female; wearing once….what may have been a nice dress, party attire, now shredded and tattered almost beyond recognition, its colors as dirty and faded as if the once pretty material had been dragged out of a box of rags. The _walker_ was facing away from Carol, and she was crouched onto her knees with her arms gathered in close together, as if she were devouring something small, something delicate. Was it…..

"JUDITH…no?"

The words had escaped her lips even before she realized that she had spoken them. The beast turned its head and looked back at Carol, human flesh still wedged within its bloody teeth.

The only living being remaining within the compound felt numb, her mind could be likened to a pot of spaghetti sauce, but only for a brief instant. Mass hatred filled her brain, she raise her crossbow and delivered a bolt directly into the forehead of the young teen-aged walker. The beast spilled forward releasing the trophy held within its grasp.

Carol felt sick; she was repulsed at the thought of having to put an arrow through the head of a young _walker_, especially one that looked to be so close the age of her own daughter, Sophia. Yet she knew that in their world there was no innocence, no remorse, no guilt. Their sole purpose was to feed, and an infant was as good a meal as a grown adult.

She watched as the creature fell to the ground, and from its grasp rolled a head, the head of a person that Carol did not recognize. It had not been the baby Judith, whom the creature had been consuming, only the body part of an ill-fated soul, a stranger whose luck in death seemed as sour as it had been in life. Someone unlucky enough to have been chosen by this creature as its next, and unfortunately, last meal.

Carol let go a sigh of relieved, she was happy that it had not been Rick's baby girl that she'd found in the grasp of the walker, and, no matter what she felt about him (or what he'd said about his trust in her being around his children), she still cared for Carl and Judith as if they were her own family.

Carol relaxed, but her pause was only momentary…. she heard the cry again, a whining noise, as if someone was expelling air. She strung another arrow, this time moving around to the opposite side of the tank. There, she found a man lying in the gravel. His hair was close cut to his head, and she knew at once that she did not know him. He had been injured, with an arrow through his chest, and she immediately recognized the bolt as being one of Daryl's.

He was an enemy, someone who'd come to take the compound, still breathing, still gasping for air. Her first impulse was to end him straight away, however, that wasn't Carol's style. Still with the animosity she held for other folk, other folk deemed as hostile to the clan, she did not see the point in killing this man just to kill him, yet she did not entertain any pleasure in watching him suffer either.

He turned his head to look at her, his mouth still agape; searching for air, as their eyes met…..she brought the bow up to her shoulder demonstrating that she was armed, yet instead of terror in his eyes she saw relief.

"Mitch, my name is Mitch….and I'm sorry for attacking you," he paused, "please don't let me turn, I'd rather you end me proper like, then be….." and with that his last words were want to be spoken.

Carol could feel no pity for this man, a man who'd apparently nearly come to his death at the hand of someone she loved, However, she could grant Mitch's final request. Her finger tightened on the trigger of the crossbow, and the arrow flew.

_************ The Road of Crosses ************_

On the return trip back to Columbus Metro Carol had much time to reflect…..

It still almost resembled a dream to her at this point, an unreal state of which she'd been induced into some other worldly existence. But she knew that it was real, and she knew that finding no more bodies of the original Atlanta group server to say that she could maintain hope, hope that she would find Daryl again.

Driving the minivan back to Columbus she noticed graffiti written on the side of an overpass….it simply read…..

"_Zombies are just people, remove their brain and they'll be back to normal."_

…..Evidently someone's idea of a joke…..before they'd become aware of how serious this infestation would become. It was all water under the bridge now. The world had changed, sunken into a mosh-pit of hell, and people had changed too, well, speaking of those who could still enjoyed a sunrise. Ironic it was that the worries of the past did not seem so important anymore, that now being able to witness a new sunrise tomorrow…. ventured past the priority of making loads of money or going on vacation next week.

Carol looked up and suddenly became aware of a man walking on the side of the road toting a gas can, and this was not just any man, a stranger, it was Will. She pulled over and rolled down the window.

"I'm not usually in the habit of picking up hitchhikers," she chuckled, "but being that you're a nice enough looking fellow, and I'm a sucker for a man in a uniform, hop in," she spoke, able to keep the humor in humanity.

Will smiled, opened the passenger door and climbed aboard.

For the next fifteen minutes each talked about where they'd been, what they'd been up to this day, and why Will had been found walking on the side of the road with a gas container in his grasp.

"Well, I ran out of fuel," he explained, "Usually I can find enough stranded vehicles along the roadway to siphon enough gas to get me going again. This time no luck….it's like someone has come along and drained every tank…."

At that moment Carol and Will both noticed something peculiar about the road up ahead, the telephone poles…..

Although telecommunications had nearly ceased only days after the outbreak in this part of the country, and most of the lines were down, the telephone poles that remained standing tall these days had taken on the symbolic view of vacant crosses. However, there was something odd about the way these poles looked. It seemed that each was harboring a transformer, or something of similar bulk strapped to its cross-like structure. It wasn't until Carol and Will got a bit closer that they discovered that these were not transformers at all, but actually people, walkers to be exact, and these creatures had been strapped onto these poles almost in crucifixion fashion.

Stunned, Carol stopped the car and she and Will got out to examine the first _walker_…..

The creature vented its annoyance at the two. It voiced angrily at its denial to be released from to pole and come down and feast on the subjects of its desire….

"Well, what'd ya think," Carol questioned of her partner; "…you have an explanation for this?"

After a moment of survey Will glanced over at his companion…..He gave her the only conclusion he could come up with.

"I think it's a warning," he said.

END PART 10


	11. Chapter 11

_**The Walking Dead, Expelled 11**_

"_**Spider's Web"**_

Author's note: Even in the Post-Apocalyptic world there are moral choices to be made. Having a conscious is what separates us from the _beasts_ of the land, or does it only mean that we ponder more over the question of if we are choosing right over wrong?

Carol comes face to face with a decision to be made, a choice…..to pull the trigger...or not to? What does she decide, and what would you? Read on to see what happens, Z.

_************ Could She Become A Killer? *************_

Carol and Will had come across a most gruesome and disturbing sight…..

_Walkers_ (or searches) tied to telephone poles as if they had been crucified. It was horrible, and even though it didn't explain the whole story, it did say something…..

These carcasses had not been erected on these poles to scare away other walkers, no; they had been placed there to frighten away people. The questions were….who had put them there and why?

She and Will traveled down the road a bit further (by foot) and at the third pole they came across an extremely grotesque sight. The walker on that pole was missing its head, not that Will or carol hadn't witnessed things similar to this before, but said_ missing body part _now lay in the street with a couple of ravenous crows picking away at its soft flesh. It was an eerie spectacle; the poor cranium seemed to be irritated at the beasts for ripping away tatters of its delicate tissue, however, it looked only to be able to mouth its displeasure at the feathered vermin, rather than do anything about it.

….So was this the result of one's existence, if only one's remains were animated above the shoulders? It was a little funny to Carol and Will as they watched the head hiss and groan over the assault on its face, that is, until they witnessed something improbable …..

One of the birds ventured a little too close to the beast's maw and within an instant it was in the creature's mouth….being devoured. It screamed in its agony while its feathered partner took flight. Will turned to Carol, a grin on his face, he spoke with jest….

"Well now, that's one way of eating crow," he smiled. She knew she liked him.

The two started to return to the van, and were but thirty yards away when they heard something coming from down the street. Carol made a play for the vehicle but Will pulled her with him into the forested area on the opposite side of the road. Hiding in the woods the two had an excellent vantage point as to watch what would happen next.

A truck came by, a regular old pick-up containing three men, two in the cab, and one in the truck bed alone, with three 55 gallon drums. They stopped just past Carol's minivan and the driver called out for the man in back to step down and search the gas tank…

"Hey Slim, get out and check that vehicle for gas."

A tall, lanky fellow jumped down from the truck, rifle in his possession, and walked over to the van. He entered the cab and in a second the fuel-latch was sprung. Then the fellow took a hose and shoved it into the gas tank. Siphoning a mite of petrol from the tank he gave the driver the signal at there was fuel within the vehicle. Another man exited the passenger side of the truck and voiced over to the driver….

"Scott, the three barrels we've got are full. If we want to load more gas we'll have to return to camp and empty out one of these containers then return to get this load."

The three cans the fellow described were drums painted military green, so it could be assumed that they'd come from Fort Benning, and the weight of them was so heavy that it almost caused the rear rims of the two back ties to nearly touch the hot surface of the road.

"Na…..leave it for Victor," the driver said, "He's got room in his tanks. Slap a sign on the window telling him to stop. He'll be along shortly so let's pack up and get goin'."

And with that the Slim gained the truck again, and the three were off.

"Maybe we should collect our vehicle and leave," Will said….however, before they could exit the woods the roar of another truck came to their ears. They held position.

In thirty seconds another vehicle came around a turn, and just like the first, it was an old pick-up, however there were two occupants inside the truck, and none in the bed.

The vehicle stopped, and an individual slipped from the driver's seat. This fellow had a rifle too, and he walked over to the minivan and read the sign addressed to him. "Victor- Gas" it stated. He looked over to the pick-up…..

"Hey twerp, grab that plastic gas container out of the back and get your ass over here to empty this load."

The passenger's door opened and they could see someone exiting from that side. Will pulled Carol down to be able to whisper to her in a private tone.

"Carol, we let these guys empty that tank and it's a long walk back to Columbus Metro," he paused, "….and least I remind you there's a butt-load of seekers between here and there."

His suggestion was obvious…..stop these fellows before they could empty the van.

"So, we walk out and surprise them, bind them, then make our retreat," she questioned?

Will said nothing, only gestured with a pass of his hand across his throat.

"I've got my pistol and you have your crossbow," he whispered," we each take one out. You take the guy with the gas container, and I'll remove the fellow with the rifle. You go first."

Holy Crap! Carol was now facing a dilemma….It was one thing to _off_ a bunch of _walkers_, or to kill another person who was out to kill you, but to blindly shoot some unsuspecting soul in the back, someone who didn't know it was coming? Well, that seemed more along the lines of murder. She didn't know if she could do it.

"Com'mon, take bead on that guy, and as soon as you drop him I'll take out the driver," Will spoke.

Carol eased up and drew the bow to her shoulder. She had noticed then that the driver had moved back towards the truck, and was standing just outside the driver's door. He turned back to the passenger and called to him…

"Com'on numb-skull, empty that tank so that we can get goin," the fellow seemed a bit irritated, and there seemed no love lost between the two.

Carol took aim down the _string-sight_, her finger slipping easily around the trigger and she could sense it pressing smoothly into the curve. She had a direct _line of sight_ at the fellow's back, and as he stood up to get away from the fumes at were expelling from the gas can she knew that she would have no better opportunity. She closed her left eye and took a deep swallow of air…

"Dam'it Sam…! Empty that case and let's get to humppin'. It'll be getting dark soon, and I don't want to be on the road when the half-wits return." he driver spoke again.

Carol froze in her stance….gasoline guy's head turned and she did recognize him…. "SAM". She quickly dropped back to the cover of the forest.

"CAROL? What the heck…..," Will voiced as quietly as possible, "What's the matter with you?"

"I can't do it," she said, "can't shoot a guy in the back even though he is stealing from me….."

As the two remain concealed they heard the truck start and soon the thieves were lost into the distance.

"Maybe there's enough fuel to get us back home," she spoke looking up at her partner, hoping to get a little understanding.

Will looked over at her, he did understand, he understood perfectly her plight, and Carol had gained an amount of trust that day, trust from a fellow she'd only known a short time, trust that sometimes it takes months to acquire from a stranger.

Will added to her train of thought with his own ponderment…..

"…or maybe there's enough fuel left in the minivan to get us down the road so that we can find out where these fellows keep their depot," he smiled, "you game for that?"

END PART 11


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